


What We See (What We Say)

by periwinklepromise



Series: MCU Kink Bingo [20]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Mirror Sex, Porn with Feelings, Self-Esteem Issues, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-19
Updated: 2019-03-19
Packaged: 2019-11-24 04:31:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18161516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/periwinklepromise/pseuds/periwinklepromise
Summary: Steve just needs someone to see him.For MCU Kink Bingo square O3: Mirrors





	What We See (What We Say)

“Open your eyes.”

Steve kept them shut tight, not out of any stubborn impudence, just out of the desire to lay against the cool glass and feel the heat of Clint as he pressed in close, and not think of anything else.

“ _Open_ your eyes,” Clint repeated, a little more insistently, and Steve was able to lean back his head and blink a few times and meet the reflection of his eyes in the mirror where they stood. “Look at you. Look at your face. See how you beautiful you are?”

Steve was shaking his head before he understood why. No, he wasn't beautiful. He wanted to be healthy, and he wanted to help people, he'd never wanted to be some sex symbol, he hadn't wanted to look like this. He shut his eyes again. Too much, too much.

He felt Clint's lips in the hollow below his ear, breath flashing down his skin. “Come on, baby. It's okay. You don't have to be ashamed. It's just you and me, no one else. You're so beautiful, baby, why can't you see that?”

Steve opened his eyes again, not to look at himself, but to look at the reflection of Clint's eyes already boring deep into his own. Hawkeye, that was his codename at SHIELD and in the Avengers, how he had first been introduced to Steve all those months ago. Never missed a shot, never missed a trick. Saw it all.

Maybe … Steve whimpered as Clint tucked his teeth against his neck, bit down hard while Steve watched. Maybe Clint really _did_ see something in him that he just _couldn't_ see in himself. It wouldn't do any good to start doubting Clint now, as his lover or as his teammate. 

Clint was Hawkeye. Steve could trust him with his life, he could trust him with ... _this_. All of this, even if it felt impossible to handle, now that he had time to try to handle it. Steve could trust him.

And Clint, damn him, he could see it in his eyes when that trust rushed through him, because he moaned and tongued at his ear and ground up against his prostate ruthlessly, was this a reward or was this a tease or was it both – oh _hell_ , this felt like both. 

Clint rubbed his hands – strong and sweet and callused – down Steve's broad shoulders, to Steve's tightened nipples grown red and angry under his harsh fingers, to Steve's abs cut like a damn washing board, down past his throbbing cock to wrench up a powerful thigh and claw at the soft skin there. In Clint's hands, he at least _felt_ beautiful, appreciated the look of his skilled fingers digging into his flesh like marble in a sculptor's studio. 

He felt his head drift back to Clint's shoulder, floating, and then a sharp pinch at his thigh had him ripping his head back up to glare at Clint in the mirror in front of them. He made some sound of betrayed distress, and Clint – damn him – just smirked and bit at his own bottom lip teasingly. 

“Watch, or I stop.”

Steve groaned, needy. “Will you watch me too?”

Clint smiled, too softly for the moment. “Like a hawk.”


End file.
